Heaven Forbid
by Erileen
Summary: One shot, deathfic. Just hold on tight and wait for tomorrow, it'll be alright


**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural in any way, shape, or form. The song "Heaven Forbid" belongs to The Fray.  
**

**Author's Note: One shot, deathfic. Set after Sam and Dean have killed 'The Demon', and Sam has returned to Stanford. Things are never that simple for Winchesters, though.**

**The song lyrics at the beginning and end of the story are from the song "Heaven Forbid" by The Fray. I'm personally not a huge fan of The Fray, but I think this is a really great song and it captures the mood of the story. Listen to it if you get a chance. **

**Warnings: Death, sadness, slight language?**

_Heaven forbid you end up alone and don't know why  
Hold on tight wait for tomorrow, you'll be alright_

Sam had been back at Stanford for five days when he got the phone call.

"Hospital…your brother…accident…coma…I'm sorry."

It was supposed to take him 32 hours to get from Stanford to the hospital in Wisconsin where Dean was, and that was if he drove nonstop. Of course, Sam had been educated at the Dean Winchester School of Drivers when he was fifteen, and made it to the hospital the next day.

He sprinted through the doors of the hospital and cried, "Where is he?"

"I'm sorry, sir?"

"Where is my brother?" he yelled; agitated. Was everyone in this world suddenly incompetent?

"Sir, if you could just calm down a little bit…"

"Please, just tell me where my brother is!"

"What's your brother's name?"

"D – Gre –" Suddenly, Sam had no idea what name Dean was using. "Winchester?" he guessed.

"Gregory Winchester?"

"That's him."

"Right, he's in room…124, floor three."

"Thanks." Sam sprinted down the hallway and ignored the nurses who yelled at him to walk. When one nurse had the gall to grab him by the shoulder and scream in his ear that he'd better slow down or else, he retaliated with, "My wife's in labor!" and kept on going.

The door to room 124 was ajar, and he took a deep breath for a second before he pushed it open.

Dean was lying in the bed, eyes closed. A machine bleeped rhythmically next to him. _Beep. Beep._ A nurse was holding his wrist and gazing at a watch. She waited until the little hand hit the twelve before dropping his hand and recording a number.

"What's wrong with him?" Sam whispered. _Beep. Beep. _

"He's in a coma," she said, in that dry, informative, I-have-all-the-answer-even-the-ones-you-don't-want-to-hear doctor tone. "It's nature's way of protecting the brain after serious trauma."

_Beep. Beep. Beep. _"His head had serious trauma?"

"You betcha, after a head on collision like that." Sam tried to force that image out of his mind.

"Is he going to be okay?" _Beep. _

She sighed and placed a hand on a hip. "You want the sugar coated answer, or the real answer?"

"Honestly," Sam said, swallowing, "I want the sugar coated one, but I'm guessing that I need the real one."

_"If _he wakes up from the coma – and that's a major 'if' – it's not going to be any time soon." _Beep. Beep. _ "And even if he does wake up, the damage is going to be extensive."

Sam swallowed again, shaking his head. "Will he be able to…hear me if I talk to him?"

"Some patients have woken up and said that they could hear people talking to them while they were in a coma, so you never know."

He sighed and nodded, staring at the floor, trying to remember how to stand. "Thank you," he whispered.

She patted his shoulder. "It'll be okay, kid." She started to exit the room, but hung near the door as she watched the kid bend down next to the bed.

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. _

"Hey Dean," he whispered, his voice laced with emotion, "you need to wake up now. If it makes you any happier, you're scaring the shit out of me." He laughed a little bit. "I'm sorry, Dean, sorry for all the stuff I said. If I could have seen…I should have stayed, Dean, I'm so sorry." _Beep. _His voice lowered a little bit, and she strained to hear what he was saying. "But you need to wake up. The world needs Dean Winchester." His voice dropped even lower, to softer than a mouse's whisper. _"I need Dean Winchester."_

_Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. _

The old nurse was like a war veteran, and having seen death so much – especially when working in a severe head trauma center – her emotions had been toned down, even turned off sometimes, while she was at work. But the sight of the man dropping his head down next to the bed and the small tear falling and making a tiny little wet dot on his sneakered foot brought her to tears.

_Beep. Beep. Beep. _

The words swam around in Dean's head. "Need…wake…up…sorry…need…wake up…need you…i…need…dean….winchester…"

He thought about opening his eyes, but the thought of doing that made him tired. But Sam was here…holding his hand.

Maybe if he didn't open his eyes, Sam would leave again.

He struggled to lift his one thousand pound eyelids. Everything was blurry, and he thought about blinking to focus the blurry world but that made him even more tired. Sam wasn't looking at him – his head was down in the bed, his eyes were closed.

Dean tried to gather words together in his throat, but they seemed to slip around uselessly in his mouth until he was finally able to murmur, "Sammy…"

Damn his voice was quiet. He tried to muster up the strength to say it again, just in case Sam didn't hear, but he did. His head snapped up, and he clenched Dean's hand. "Dean? Dean, you're awake?"

He wanted to say, "Well no duh, Master of the Obvious" but even thinking that long of a sentence made him tired. So he said the only word that seemed to register in his mind. "Sammy."

The floodgates opened for the nurse in the doorway, and she stomped her foot in anger, trying to control herself. She tried to wipe away her tears furiously but failed as they fell faster and faster.

"Dean, are you okay? Stay with me." _Beep. Beep. Beep._

The world was becoming fuzzy for Dean Winchester, and Sam's face was a blur. But before he went out, he whispered, "Don't go."

And Sam stayed.

He stayed by Dean's bed all night and whispered, "It's okay, Dean, you can do it. Just hang in there Dean." He never let go of his brother's hand, even when the nurses came in to check on him.

At 2:14 am, Sam whispered, "Don't leave me, Dean."

_Beep._

At 3:14 am, Sam whispered, "I need you, Dean."

_Beep. Beep._

At 4:14 am, Sam whispered, "If it's your time to go, you can go, Dean. I'll be okay."

_Beep. Beep. Be—_

At 4:15 am, Dean Winchester died.

_Heaven forbid you end up alone and don't know why  
Hold on tight wait for tomorrow, you'll be alright_


End file.
